


that's me, just a sweet melody

by lunarys



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M, Summer, there's a frog named lucy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarys/pseuds/lunarys
Summary: If there is a word for this year’s summer, Mingyu would say it’s sticky. Palms stick to things, clothes to backs, people to each other.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	that's me, just a sweet melody

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotuscove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotuscove/gifts).



> title from a shura song in my playlist as i was losing my mind over writing this :D
> 
> happy birthday pema bebby i'm sorry this is so bad but i simply had to throw something together for the reason why the sun shines in june!!! i hope your day was great and I'm sorry this is quite literally at the last minute, if not just one or two too late. love u frog girl <3

The worst part about living with Jihoon is, and he’s thought about this plenty, is the constant teasing. Now, Mingyu is usually quite accustomed to the pokings because apparently getting absolutely stupid fucking hammered at Jeonghan’s dinner-slash-party (who allowed the open bar’s catalog to be so open?) and throwing up half of your digestive system in the downstairs toilet plus falling asleep with your head against the seat and officially barring anyone else from using that bathroom for the rest of the night plus some other minor embarrassing occurrences in comparison serves as enough material to get sporadically tormented over the course of a year and a half, so there isn’t a nerve not completely immune to Jihoon’s striking. 

But this one is different. Mingyu has been a ball of nerves as of late, that’s the thing. 

Minghao has been texting him. Often. He regrets ever telling Jihoon about the pretty boy with the mullet he sees around the neighborhood that has the craziest socks because he somehow got his number, which means that sometimes he invites Mingyu over and Jihoon nearly topples over in laughter seeing him drop everything like it’s on fire and scramble to leave the house as fast as he can and his roommate is really no help. “ Don’t trip and show up there with a missing tooth,” his roommate’s shout gets muted as he shuts the door behind him.

*

It’s much quieter at Minghao’s. He remembers him saying that he has a roommate, too, but summertime keeps him abroad so Minghao has the place to himself and that he hates that, so Mingyu guesses that that’s what he’s for, company. Minghao has a metal headband pushing his overgrown bangs back — Mingyu makes a mental note to offer to trim them for him so the thoughts he keeps having of running his hands through them stops, obviously leaving that part out if he ever does, but only do so if his fingers stop fidgeting, if they ever do.

“How’s Lucy?” he remembers to ask. 

Minghao’s smile grows a little, enough to make Mingyu’s insides squeeze a little tighter. “In my room, good and green, same as always.” Lucy is the frog, a fire-bellied toad to be precise, because Minghao is just that type of person.

It doesn’t come as a surprise when he suggests they go to the park ten minutes away from his building instead of staying indoors, Mingyu has long ago learned that Minghao’s petals shrivel up if not given enough sunlight so he happily obliges, grabbing bottled tea and wasabi peas that Minghao keeps in the cabinets and only slightly cocking an eyebrow when he sees the boy emerge from his room with a messenger bag against the yellow of his overalls and his hands under a frog tank. If he’s just a little upset that he can’t hold Minghao’s hand on the way there, he doesn’t make it visible.  
  


*

If there is a word for this year’s summer, Mingyu would say it’s sticky. Palms stick to things, clothes to backs, people to each other. The park’s usual audience is a few groups of men with more days passed than days left that sat by the benches, entertained by board games and the pigeons that gathered for the breadcrumbs, but other than that it’s empty, lonesome oak trees casting shadows in irregular shapes on the uneven grass. They forget to bring something to spread on the floor and sit on but Minghao says it doesn’t matter because “clothes are for having fun in” and that “my detergent is good for grass stains anyway”. 

Minghao sets Lucy on the ground, reaching for his bag next. From it comes out a small Bluetooth speaker and he gets an album playing that Mingyu knows but can’t name.

The next couple of hours melt away like ice on the counter as they talk about any and everything like they usually do, Minghao’s head on Mingyu’s legs as he talks about Lucy and how she (yes, a female frog because Minghao said so) is called Lucy because there’s a Ghibli movie with a fire spirit called Calcifer and that it reminds him of the name Lucifer and Lucy is a little devil so Lucy stuck. Mingyu complains about how hot the wasabi peas are now and then while Minghao pays mind to his whining because they’re Mingyu’s favorite snack when he drops by Minghao’s and he keeps a bag in his kitchen because of him. It’s a funny thing, how Mingyu’s muscles stay on alert at all times around Minghao when he’s the person he feels most relaxed around and he’s given up on dwelling over it sometime over the past few weeks; it’s good to let things be. 

Minghao’s eyes suddenly widen as he pulls himself from Mingyu’s lap, opening his bag left on the side again, “I saw this thing online and I don’t know if it’s good but I thought we could try it.” and he pulls out an inconspicuous plastic container with something golden inside. 

Raw honeycomb. Minghao bites into it as the piece drips slow and thick down the length of his fingers and Mingyu’s body stiffens for a second before Minghao laughs, gentle and soft as always because he’s not capable of more than a heartfelt giggle. He leans against the oak tree they set station by, knees propped up as he blows cool air down his shirt and watches Minghao struggle with his online purchase. 

“How is it?”

“Try.”

He brings a piece up to Mingyu’s face and he takes it with his teeth, careful and methodic like he’s never been, blood pumping faster than necessary. Minghao doesn’t think much of it, rubbing his honey-coated thumb and index finger on Mingyu’s bottom lip like he has all the time in the world, which he does. Sweat pools around Mingyu’s hairline because it is scorching hot and for no reason. He nods, signaling it’s good, and doesn’t say anything because he's sure his voice is ready to betray him and catch in his throat, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Minghao right now, or ever actually. So the nod translates to Minghao as Mingyu wanting more, so he smiles.

The sky is turning orange. The seniors by the benches have gone home. Minghao is sitting very close, he finally notices, his stretched legs going under Mingyu’s elevated knees as his eyes linger on his own fingers, or on Mingyu’s lips, or on both, Mingyu doesn’t know and is too overwhelmed to find out, choosing instead on stabilizing his heartbeat threatening to jump out of its cage and, of course, failing to do so.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Mingyu, head stuck and wandering in an orange-tinted haze, is not sure who asked that. But the next thing he registers is lips on his, and instinct tells him to close his eyes and follow the lead. His hands are still clean, only clammy from the heat, and he runs them against the fabric of his shorts once before grounding them on the back of Minghao’s hair. There’s a dull thud beating in his eardrums, Minghao’s hot exhales through his nose bat against his cheek, and everything is so much and so fast. They pull away once, Mingyu breathless and Minghao smiling, and Mingyu gathers all the grit he can muster to pull him back in as gently as he can because petals crumple easily. And then it is slow.

The thing is, Mingyu is no stranger to crushes. In fact, he gets them quite often and Jihoon makes fun of him for them. They’re fleeting and bothersome for the most part, gusts of wind that blow your hair in your face and leaves you spitting strays that got in your mouth, yet Minghao showed up a summer breeze at sunset; unexpected all the same, but warm, light. The world keeps turning but their sunset is frozen in place, and they keep on kissing the sugar from the corner of each other’s mouth. 

Honey and wasabi don’t go together, but Mingyu figures they could. 

**Author's Note:**

> (again im sorry. ive never written anything so fast in my life)
> 
> catch me on [twt](https://twitter.com/fifthcaiamity) and on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/horangdan) ♡


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